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ape.'
Randolph said nothing but walked around the couch until he was confronting
Orbus again. 'So Waverley, for some mysterious personal reason -'
'As well as for a perfectly understandable business reason,' Orbus
interjected.
'All right then. But for some combination of reasons, mysterious and
understandable, Waverley wants me eliminated . Not j ust bankrupted, but six
feet under the ground.'
'That's what I've come to see you about,' breathed Orbus. He picked up the
last of the cookies and shoved it in his mouth.
'Would you like a few more?' Randolph asked.
T shouldn't,' Orbus said.
Randolph rang for Mrs Wallace and then said, 'Where's Neil now? Was he too
embarrassed to come here with you?'
'You could say that, but I didn't really want him along. What I'm going to say
to you now, I want to be private, and stay private.'
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'Go on.'
'Well,' Orbus wheezed, his voice more high-pitched than ever, 'it is my
understanding that you have some sort of evidence that connects Waverley
Graceworthy with Richard Reece, and Richard Reece with what happened to your
family up in Canada.'
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'You know about Reece?'
'Certainly I know about Reece. I've been complaining to Waverley about Reece
ever since Waverley first employed him. Reece is a maniac. Reece has no morals
at all, good or bad. If you tell him to push somebody's teeth down his throat,
that's just what Reece does, and what's more, he waits for the teeth to go
through that person's system and come out the other end so he can push them
down twice just to show he's done a good job. There's a whole gang of them,
all vets, all crazy. God only knows how Waverley got to know them, but they
treat him like the Emperor Napoleon.'
Mrs Wallace knocked at the door and Randolph invited her in. He indicated the
empty cookie dish and said gently, 'Mr Greene finds your cookies every bit as
desirable as I do. Do you think he could have another batch?'
'There are twenty-four to the batch,' said Mrs Wallace coldly.
Orbus heaved himself around and smiled at her. 'That's okay,' he told her
generously. 'I didn't want too many anyway.'
When Mrs Wallace had gone, Randolph said, 'The fire at Raleigh was definitely
sabotage then?'
Orbus nodded.
'And what about my family?'
'They were supposed to be frightened, that's all. Threatened, tied up, robbed.
The trouble was, Reece went bananas.'
'Why are you telling me this? You realize that you're implicating yourself in
anything up to a dozen deaths? My family, Jimmy the Rib, the three men who
died at Raleigh,
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I.M. Wartawa; who knows how many more?' Randolph held his fists clenched tight
to control himself.
Orbus suddenly asked, 'This room isn't wired for sound, is it?'
Randolph shook his head.
'All right then,' Orbus said. 'I'm a tough businessman. You know that. I've
been head of Brooks Cottonseed for as long as I can remember, and I was mayor
of Memphis in the bad old days when this city was nothing but sweat and shit
and niggers and gangsters with faces like cans of economy ham. I've done my
share of grafting and I've done my share of bullying, and there are plenty of
people who wouldn't mind seeing my substantial person floating in the
Mississippi face down, along with the unborn babies and the dead dogs. I went
along with Waverley when he was hiring Reece simply to lean on people, to
hurry up payments and that kind of thing. I approved of that. Now and then one
or two members of the Cottonseed Association would get out of line,
politically or business-wise, and then Reece and his boys would go around and
remind them where their allegiance ought to be. I didn't object to any of
that. That's necessary, that kind of enforcement, in this city, even today,
even with it all smartened up. But when Waverley went after you, he must have
told Reece something a hell of a lot different from what he told me he'd said
because I don't approve of killing, not anybody, certainly not for the sake of
business, and I especially don't approve of killing innocent women and
children who don't have anything to do with what their husbands or fathers
might have been playing at. I'm a Christian, Randy, you know that; and while
there might be no particular commandment against intimidation, there sure as
hell is one against murder, which is exactly the name of the game that
Waverley's been up to.'
Randolph listened to Orbus with a gradually growing coldness. He had thought
alter the funeral that if he could find out why Marmie and the children had
died, somehow his mind would become more settled and he would be able
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to accept their deaths more easily. But now that he knew Waverley Graceworthy
had ordered them killed for nothing more meaningful than a margarine contract,
he felt a frigid rage that seemed to crystallize the structure of his bones
and turn his skull into aching ice.
Orbus sensed Randolph's shock and he tried to be sympathetic.
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'Listen to this, Randy. Waverley found out from Reece and his boys what you
were doing in Indonesia. At first he ordered you killed, both you and this
Michael Hunter. I don't know how you managed to get away; Reece was the only
witness and you can't say that Reece is exactly the world's greatest
raconteur. But whatever . . . Waverley knows that you can go into some kind of
trance where you can talk to people who are dead. He also knows that you need
Michael Hunter to help you do it. He's worried that you're going to get
Michael Hunter to help you talk to Marmie and that Marmie is going to put the
finger on Reece and give you some clues that might just stand up in court.'
Randolph nodded and said huskily, 'Well, that's exactly it. The death trance
is real. I've experienced it for myself. You see, I've got plenty of
circumstantial evidence, even though one of my witnesses was killed -'
'That black guy? Jimmy the Rib?' [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]